Read Online The Ten Thousand by Harold Coyle - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Harold Coyle
Tags: Military
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him.
Ilvanich smiled at the American soldier. “You did well. That was excellent shooting. Two five-round bursts, two men dead.”
Pape smiled. “Piece of cake, Major. Piece of cake.”
Ilvanich continued to smile. “Yes, I am sure it was.” These Americans, he thought, take this too casually. What will happen, he thought, when things begin to go against them. “Now you need to prepare for a deliberate attack, dismounted this time, that will come up, oh, over there, to your right.”
Pape looked over to where the Russian major was pointing. “How do you know that?”
Ilvanich smiled. “Because, my friend, two months ago I was doing the same thing at a site like this.
Those men out there may be Ukrainians, but they read the same books I do. There is a gully, three hundred meters over there, that leads almost up to the fence. It is mined near the fence, but the BTR will use it to close on us and dismount its troops.”
Not sure about the Russian next to him, Pape looked at the major for a few seconds, then grunted.
“Okay, you’re the expert.” After which he shifted his weapon to the right.
Fifty meters below Ilvanich and Pape, another battle was being waged. In this one the Americans also held the upper hand, a fact that Biryukov could not ignore. The fight, for him and his small detachment in the assembly chamber, had been a disaster. Coming out of the smoke, the enemy had been among his positions before his men had gotten a shot off. At point-blank range the Americans had all but wiped out Biryukov’s command. Only the quick thinking of one of his sergeants saved Biryukov from dying in that first rush with the rest of his men. Not that salvation was going to last long. Unable to move because of a wound that laid most of his side open, Biryukov sat with his back to the wall looking at the elevator doors that led back up to the assembly chamber. Only he, Sergeant Popel, who had dragged him into the elevator, and one other man made it to the lower storage chamber. Though the elevator was locked, Biryukov could hear the Americans working on the other side, preparing charges to force the elevator doors on their level. They had time, but not much. Once the American demolition team was finished, they would have to climb out of the elevator shaft before setting off their charges. After that everything would go fast. First, if they were smart, the Americans would drop grenades to clear the shaft and area by the door. Then the assault force would rappel down on ropes to finish Biryukov and his tiny command before they had recovered from the grenades. It was simply a matter of time before the Americans seized the weapons he was charged with guarding, unless he did something.
Looking down the long corridor to his right, Biryukov turned his mind away from the coming fight.
Yes, he thought, it would be quick. Though some of the attackers would surely die this time, there was only so much that his two men could do. The Americans, Biryukov knew, had come too far to stop.
They would gladly fill the elevator shaft with their dead in order to seize the warheads that sat in the chambers on either side of the long corridor. That the Russians had somehow gotten the naive Americans to do their dirty work didn’t surprise Biryukov. His father had always told him that while the Americans acted like cowboys, they thought like boy scouts. Looking back at Popel, Biryukov coughed, spitting up small clots of blood. “If they do not hurry, I fear I shall miss their grand entrance.”
The sergeant, his face betraying no emotion, nodded. “It shall not be long, Captain. I believe that they are climbing back up the elevator shaft. Once the demolition party is cleared, they will set off the charge.
Then…”
In the silence, the soldier crouching next to the elevator shaft looked at the sergeant, then at Biryukov.
His young face was contorted with fear and apprehension. He, like Biryukov and the sergeant, knew they had no chance.
Ilvanich smiled at the American soldier. “You did well. That was excellent shooting. Two five-round bursts, two men dead.”
Pape smiled. “Piece of cake, Major. Piece of cake.”
Ilvanich continued to smile. “Yes, I am sure it was.” These Americans, he thought, take this too casually. What will happen, he thought, when things begin to go against them. “Now you need to prepare for a deliberate attack, dismounted this time, that will come up, oh, over there, to your right.”
Pape looked over to where the Russian major was pointing. “How do you know that?”
Ilvanich smiled. “Because, my friend, two months ago I was doing the same thing at a site like this.
Those men out there may be Ukrainians, but they read the same books I do. There is a gully, three hundred meters over there, that leads almost up to the fence. It is mined near the fence, but the BTR will use it to close on us and dismount its troops.”
Not sure about the Russian next to him, Pape looked at the major for a few seconds, then grunted.
“Okay, you’re the expert.” After which he shifted his weapon to the right.
Fifty meters below Ilvanich and Pape, another battle was being waged. In this one the Americans also held the upper hand, a fact that Biryukov could not ignore. The fight, for him and his small detachment in the assembly chamber, had been a disaster. Coming out of the smoke, the enemy had been among his positions before his men had gotten a shot off. At point-blank range the Americans had all but wiped out Biryukov’s command. Only the quick thinking of one of his sergeants saved Biryukov from dying in that first rush with the rest of his men. Not that salvation was going to last long. Unable to move because of a wound that laid most of his side open, Biryukov sat with his back to the wall looking at the elevator doors that led back up to the assembly chamber. Only he, Sergeant Popel, who had dragged him into the elevator, and one other man made it to the lower storage chamber. Though the elevator was locked, Biryukov could hear the Americans working on the other side, preparing charges to force the elevator doors on their level. They had time, but not much. Once the American demolition team was finished, they would have to climb out of the elevator shaft before setting off their charges. After that everything would go fast. First, if they were smart, the Americans would drop grenades to clear the shaft and area by the door. Then the assault force would rappel down on ropes to finish Biryukov and his tiny command before they had recovered from the grenades. It was simply a matter of time before the Americans seized the weapons he was charged with guarding, unless he did something.
Looking down the long corridor to his right, Biryukov turned his mind away from the coming fight.
Yes, he thought, it would be quick. Though some of the attackers would surely die this time, there was only so much that his two men could do. The Americans, Biryukov knew, had come too far to stop.
They would gladly fill the elevator shaft with their dead in order to seize the warheads that sat in the chambers on either side of the long corridor. That the Russians had somehow gotten the naive Americans to do their dirty work didn’t surprise Biryukov. His father had always told him that while the Americans acted like cowboys, they thought like boy scouts. Looking back at Popel, Biryukov coughed, spitting up small clots of blood. “If they do not hurry, I fear I shall miss their grand entrance.”
The sergeant, his face betraying no emotion, nodded. “It shall not be long, Captain. I believe that they are climbing back up the elevator shaft. Once the demolition party is cleared, they will set off the charge.
Then…”
In the silence, the soldier crouching next to the elevator shaft looked at the sergeant, then at Biryukov.
His young face was contorted with fear and apprehension. He, like Biryukov and the sergeant, knew they had no chance.
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